In Which the Elrics are Sorted
Harry Potter and Full Metal Alchemist belong to their respective owners.
Scenario 1:
"Elric, Alphonse!" a clear voice rang out in the Great Hall.
A boy of average build with short, well-groomed golden hair approached the stool in the center of the staged area where Professor McGonagall was waiting with an aged pointed hat. Having seen several students go before him, Al knew what to expect when the hat was placed on his head. He had also heard the story of the time when his older brother was Sorted the year before.
"Ah, you must be Edward's younger brother!" the Hat spoke within Al's head.
"I am indeed, sir. I apologize for my brother's behavior last year."
"No need!" the Sorting Hat laughed, "Now, where shall we place you?"
"Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, sir. I'm sure you will place me wherever is best."
"Such a polite boy! But is that all there is to you? Let's have a look," the Sorting Hat peered further into Alphonse's mind.
"Loving, courageous, loyal—I see, I see. Just like your brother, you seek the Truth and how to defeat death. I suppose trying to warn you away from the Deathly Hallows would do no good?"
"You're correct in your assumption, sir."
"Well then. I could put you in Slytherin with your brother..."
"I'm sensing a 'but'," Al responded, worried. It had been going so well, too.
"I believe that although you miss your mother terribly, it is not truly to bring her back that you seek the Deathly Hallows."
Al's brow furrowed, "What are you implying?"
"I do not mean to offend, dear boy."
Al huffed, annoyed now, "Just say what you are going to say."
"I believe you seek the Deathly Hallows because Edward seeks the Deathly Hallows. You do it out of love for your brother. Yes, you are intrigued by the concept intellectually, but you do not believe in your heart of hearts that death can be conquered. Or rather, if it should be conquered. There is a hesitation in your heart; if you find what you are looking for, you are uncertain if you should use it."
Al's golden eyes were wide in shock at what the Sorting Hat had to say. His face then became like steel.
"When we find the Deathly Hallows we will use it. I believe in Brother, and I believe in magic. No force can ever change these things."
"Very well, Alphonse Elric. I do believe I have found the right House for you," the Sorting Hat smiled.
"Huh? Wait!" Al cried out in the mental space they had been talking in before the world returned to normal. He was in the Great Hall once more.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat cried out in a voice that echoed throughout the chamber.
The Sorting Hat's decry was met by three things: polite applause, Alphonse's resigned sigh, and a most spectacular fit from the Slytherin table.
"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Edward Elric hollered, jumping onto the table and pointing rudely at the Sorting Hat. "DO OVER! I CALL FOR A DO OVER!"
"Mr. Elric! That is-
Before Professor McGonagall could finish her admonishment, another voice called out with pointed wand aimed at Ed.
"Petrificus Totalis!" Roy Mustang, Sixth Year Prefect, cast. He continued once Edward was immobilized, "My apologies for my unruly underclassmen. I will ensure there will be no further interruptions from my House."
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. She did not approve of the permissions Professor Snape gave to his prefects, but Head Master Dumbledore did, and that was all that mattered.
"Very well. See to it, then," McGonagall turned her attention back to the other Elric brother, "Please go sit with the Hufflepuffs."
"Yes, ma'am," Al acquiesced. He knew Brother was going to be upset. He would just have to go and talk to him once the Sorting was finished and the Feast had begun. Hopefully the person who he could only assume was "that bastard Mustang" would be kind enough to reverse the spell on his brother.